The Dark Lord Arising
by Le Comte de Saint-Nicholas
Summary: The magical world has more than its share of strange and mysterious crimes. And solving them is down to Lovegood and Granger, partners in the Auror Office (Investigation and Detection Subsect). And also, just partners. No crime too big, small, delicate, difficult or strange. Slightly AU, but not too much.
1. Chapter 1: Murder

'_Lovegood and Granger_' was what the sign said. It was a polished rectangle of brass, which read in its entirety:

Lovegood and Granger

Auror Office

Investigation and Detection Subsect

Hermione Granger pushed the door open wearily. Inside, an office that would have been spacious but for the paper and paraphernalia was occupied by a blonde young woman, dreamy-eyed and reading the contents of a crisp beige folder. She was sitting on one of the straight-backed chairs behind the cluttered desk, with her feet up on the other.

Luna looked up when Hermione entered, raising an eyebrow as she took in her tired and dishevelled appearance.

'I got your note' the blonde said with the faintest trace of a smile, pulling a crumpled and folded slip of paper from one of her pockets and reading the hasty scrawl aloud. 'Have gone. Am safe, do not worry. Will be back by lunchtime. If not back by lunchtime, may not be safe, still do not worry. Do not follow.' Luna looked up. 'I swear, you're getting as bad as me.' she said, tossing the note onto the desk.

'Stow it, Lovegood' Hermione said, grinning. 'I've been trailing Mundungus Fletcher for eighteen hours straight.'

'Find anything?'

Hermione pushed Luna's feet off of her chair, muttering 'I feel missed' as she wiped footprints off the seat. She sat down, sighing in relief as the weight was taken off her feet.

'No, nothing.' she answered Luna after a moment, a note of frustration creeping into her voice. 'I'm sure he's in on it, we just need to catch him on a delivery.'

'If anyone this side of Switzerland is involved in something as underhand as this, it will be Dung.' put in Luna mildly. 'He has such a refreshing lack of morals. It makes you feel so good about yourself.'

'Hmm.' agreed Hermione. 'It used to be just minor stuff, stolen goods and petty fraud and so on, and then we could just about ignore him. But dragon-hide trafficking is serious business, with or without morals.'

Luna stood up, stretching. 'Well, I'm sure you'll get him eventually. He's certainly our best way into the group, and you know he never could refuse you. Something about your eyes, I believe.'

Hermione snorted. 'Something about my wand between _his_ eyes, you mean.'

Luna gave a dismissive gesture and put Mundungus Fletcher's dragon-hide smuggling out of mind. 'Well, currently we have bigger Streelers to shell.' She gesticulated with the beige folder that she had been reading when Hermione arrived.

'Something came up?' asked Hermione curiously.

Luna nodded confirmation and added; 'Something big. Unexpected. Unprecedented. Inexplic-'

'Oh, just give me the file, not the thesaurus!' cried Hermione exasperatedly. She seized the folder and began to read through it. Her eyebrows rose as she progressed until they threatened to vanish into her fringe, and once she whistled in shock. She got to the bottom and looked up at Luna.

'Let me get this straight.' she said, deceptively calmly. 'Someone murdered an eleven-year-old for their _Hogwarts letter_?'

'Not quite' replied Luna. 'The letter itself was left charred into illegibility. The child…'

'Was left with half their head on the floor.' finished Hermione weakly. 'Family?'

'Muggles. It's possible that this is some new pure-blood extremist group, but we really don't have enough to go on yet.'

'It would take a really nasty pure-blood to try and punish muggle-borns for the act of receiving a Hogwarts letter.' Said Hermione slightly disbelievingly.

'Or they could be attempting to lower the amount of muggle-borns in society by preventing them ever reaching the magical world.' Luna pointed out.

'Only someone completely insane would try and do that' frowned Hermione. She sighed. 'Well, at any rate we should probably take a look at the scene and the victim. When did you get the folder?'

'All of ten minutes before you got here.' Replied Luna. 'So the scene should still be relatively undisturbed. We could even masquerade as muggle police if we get there quickly enough.'

Hermione nodded and groaned quietly as she stood up. 'Well, we'd best be off then'.

Luna frowned at her 'Do you want me to take this one? You have been trailing Dung for eighteen hours. You're no use to me if you're nodding off on your feet.'

'Nonsense' replied Hermione sharply, waving her hand in impatience. 'A refreshing charm and a cup of coffee and I'll be fit and ready for duty.'

They kissed, just a quick peck, and left one after the other to prepare for visiting the home of a murder.

Ω

The child, Ethan Cooper, was _very_ dead. It would be hard to find someone more dead if you tried. Hermione and Luna, dressed in grey suits and long coats, stood in the doorway to his first-floor room, looking at the scene intently, taking in all the details. The mother had let them in, reassured by Luna's comment of 'Plainclothes police, Ma'am. Special Investigations.' She, a thin, greying woman of forty or so, hung back a few paces anxiously, watching the two detectives.

'Well, he died quickly at least.' said Hermione to Luna in an undertone. 'I can't check for magical activity with the mother peering over our shoulders, how about you take her into a different room and find out anything she knows. Try and establish a motive. I'll keep on here.'

Luna nodded. It was a common tactic between them. Luna was both very insightful and very good at hiding it. She could find out someone's life story before they realised she knew their name. She also had a special aptitude for calming and comforting people in shock. Hermione used to joke that if she ever got tired of investigating, she could get a job as a therapist. She took Mrs. Cooper by the arm, saying quiet comments in her soft, lyrical voice and led her down the stairs.

Hermione checked the coast was clear of muggles before moving further into the room. She pulled her wand out of her coat and poked at the ashes of the acceptance letter on the desk, muttering to herself. She nodded in satisfaction, carefully sweeping some of the ashes into a small envelope and sealing it before straightening up. She checked the window and the lock and handle of the door before kneeling down to examine the body.

Carefully, and with meticulous attention to detail, she studied the position he lay in, felt whether rigor mortis had set in yet, and examined the cut severing his head into two pieces. She would have looked at the expression on his face, but there wasn't much left of it. Finally, she muttered a few incantations over the body, tilted her head slightly as she considered the results, and with one last look, left down the stairs again.

**I've wanted to do something with a Luna/Hermione pairing for a while now, just because they complement each other so well. And also I always thought there needed to be a part of the auror office that solved crimes, rather than just hunting known death eaters or doing police work (necessary as that is). So I combined them, and suddenly you have the best crime-solving duo since Holmes and Watson.**

**I'll try to update this fairly frequently, but I won't make any promises because I'm always up to my neck in work (so we'll see how well that works out).**

**Toodle-pip!**


	2. Chapter 2: Upping the Stakes

**Disclaimer: It is incorrect to deny that it is a lie that it is wrong to say that it is incorrect that I don't not own Harry Potter. Work it out.**

The next morning, Luna and Hermione apparated early into the ministry, walking hand in hand to their office. The building was mostly empty but for the occasional caretaker or harassed-looking wizard working early. Hermione walked purposefully, with Luna managing to keep pace, despite meandering slightly and giving the appearance of strolling leisurely.

'Morning Tonks' she called in her airy, unconcerned voice as they passed the main part of the Auror Office. The short witch (today sporting hair in radioactive green) looked up and grinned at the pair at they passed.

'Lovegood! Granger! A word in my office, if you please.' she called out in mock severity, gesturing sternly with a letter-opener she was holding. Her assistant, a short, wiry man named Marcus Threft, who seemed to be in a constant state of agitation, hurried over. 'The head auror wants to speak to you' he said rather superfluously, and gestured towards Tonks' office.

The two detectives stopped, and with looks of fake concern, allowed themselves to be ushered into the office of Chief Auror. Once they were seated in front of a desk that vied to be as messy as their own, Tonks rounded on them (brandishing her letter-opener dangerously) and said; 'Is the door closed?'

Hermione and Luna shared a look, and then nodded. Tonks visibly relaxed with a thankful sigh, dropping her stiff posture. 'Oh, good' she said much more mildly, in a relieved tone.

'Care to explain the little charade?' asked Hermione amusedly. 'Pleased as we are to pretend for you without knowing the object.'

'Everyone's been telling me I need to work on my authority' said Tonks. 'Friendliness is all very well, but there comes a time when you need to be able to pull rank and give orders and all such while actually expecting them to be obeyed without question.'

'Hence the fierceness.' nodded Luna solemnly. 'Are they afraid of you yet?'

'No.' groaned Tonks. 'I swear they're laughing behind my back. It was all so much easier when Mad-Eye was in charge. No-one dared look at him sideways, let alone backchat. And Amelia Bones was nearly as good. Even Kingsley radiated authority.' She grinned ruefully. 'It's harder than it looks.'

'Blame the war, for leaving us with so many empty places to recruit for.' Said Hermione. 'And for landing you in this job, I suppose.'

Tonks nodded assent, before coming to the point. 'Anyways, I had an actual reason for calling you over, I'm sure you'll be pleased to hear. I'm not just increasing my image.' She looked seriously at the pair, and said quietly; 'You're on Ethan Cooper's case?'

'That's right.' confirmed Luna, with a hint of a question in her voice.

Tonks nodded in satisfaction. 'Good. We need our best on it.' She looked at them hopefully. 'I suppose it's too early to ask if you have any leads?'

'We're working on it' replied Hermione smoothly.

'But do you think you can work it out?' asked the chief auror carefully.

Hermione frowned. 'I should think so. Why is this particular case so important?'

'Because one hell of a journalist has gotten hold of the story.'

'If it's Rita Skeeter, then we can sort her out.' stated Hermione.

'No, she's kept fairly quiet of late- about since she published that book on Dumbledore a few years back, in fact.' Tonks noticed Hermione and Luna's smug smiles and paused.

'You know why she's given up, don't you?' she said in realisation. 'What in the name of Merlin did you have to threaten her with to keep her quiet?' Hermione and Luna said nothing, just grinned wider, and she sighed. 'Fine. Keep your secrets. But no, it's not Skeeter. Far worse. It's Viridian Lethwick.'

Luna whistled through her teeth. 'Ouch. How did he find out?'

'I don't know,' Said Tonks bitterly, 'but he has a lot of sources. I suspect one of my aurors is working as an informant.'

'Hang on a moment' said Hermione in confusion. 'Who is this Lethwick person?'

Luna turned to her, and stated seriously; 'Viridian Lethwick is the most unscrupulous, the most underhand, and the most avaricious reporter and journalist between here and Alaska. He is also one of the best. He keeps something of a low profile, but he can get any story he thinks will sell and no-one can discover secrets faster. He taught Rita Skeeter everything she knows.'

Tonks nodded affirmation, and added 'he's an infamous name in certain circles, and beyond that, almost unknown. He very much likes to play the role of puppeteer, manipulating and scheming and watching the famous and influential rise or fall by his reports of them.'

'He doesn't always use the _Daily Prophet_' she continued, 'he isn't fond of constraining himself. What he really likes is to give the right story to fringe magazines and papers with extreme views and watch the scandal break out.'

'He tried to use _The Quibbler_ once' said Luna thoughtfully. 'I think he thought that because it was a minority paper, it would print whatever shameless propaganda he gave it in the hopes of upping sales. He was such an arrogant, pseudo-aristocratic dandy. Dad threw him out on his ear. He was ever so angry.'

Hermione contemplated this for a minute or so, and then whistled appreciatively. 'And you're worried he might sell this story to some fringe paper?' she asked.

Tonks nodded. 'And I'd bet a hundred galleons I know which ones. There's a small but growing movement among some wizards that magic is poisoning our society and our values, and that we should all abstain from using it. He'll sell the story to them, so they can exploit it as 'Magic cause of 11 year-old's murder'. And then he'll sell it to the most bigoted, fanatical pure-blood paper possible as '11 year-old wizard murdered by suspected muggle extremists'.'

Hermione began to speak, and Tonks continued quickly. 'I know that's not the solution, but if the case hasn't been solved, they can invent almost any explanation they chose and no-one will question it. Then both papers will add the aside 'Aurors turn a blind eye' and suddenly you have anarchy and chaos as the propaganda war escalates and becomes fiercer and more extreme and the ministry has to try and deal with both parties as diplomatically as possible and we all try and defuse the situation before someone gets killed, and the only thing the two factions agree on is that the aurors made a right old hash of solving the murder in the first place.'

There was a ringing silence.

'Ah.' said Hermione.

Ω

A few minutes later, Hermione and Luna left Tonks' office, making sure to look suitably frightened, and headed to their own base of operations in silence. Both were musing over the consequences of a leech like Lethwick having the story.

'You know' reflected Luna after a while 'that the only real way out of this situation is to complete the case before it ever becomes published. The actual truth will stop most of the insane theories in their collective tracks, but only if we get in first.'

Hermione sighed. 'I know. Just what we needed. A time limit.'

Arriving at their office, Hermione unlocked the door while Luna checked the pigeonhole for Inter-Departmental Memos or standard letters from further afield.

'Any mail?' called Hermione as she hung up her coat.

Luna walked in, rifling through the envelopes. 'A dispatch from main office, someone's been selling cursed amulets masquerading as protective charms…'

'Crooked lowlifes' muttered Hermione angrily.

'Some junk mail, trying to either sell us second-hand cauldrons and luxury safaris with sphinxes or defraud us…'

'Haven't people got better things to do with their time?'

Luna looked at the last envelope. 'And…' her face fell slightly.

'Another one?' asked Hermione heavily.

'Yes. Just the one today, at least.'

Hermione took the letter, ripped it open, and scanned it quickly. 'They call me something unmentionable…Suggest rather strongly that you're several thestrals short of a flock…Oh, we're living in sin again, they really need to think up a new phrase…And they cap it all off by suggesting a nice, discreet private clinic where we can get treatment for our mental illness, and saying that even if we do persist with this disgusting display, we might at least have the decency not to parade it about in public.'

Luna laughed, though it was slightly forced. 'Touché. I am wounded deeply.' She threw herself to her knees and declaimed dramatically 'Oh, so sorely struck am I by the poignant, touching, public-spirited message of your last letter that I repent it all! I see the error of my ways! Alas, alack!'

Hermione managed a grin.

Standing up, Luna took the letter from Hermione and pinned it up it a glass-fronted noticeboard on one of the walls. It was already full of hate mail. Displaying it on the wall of their office was the pair's way of fighting back, showing that they were not ashamed and could not be cowed into silence. The more hate they received, the more determined they were to continue the way they were.

'A good one, that.' She said. 'Some real eloquence and consideration.'

'Not my favourite though' Hermione replied. 'My favourite is still the one that said that what I really need to do is find a proper man to get married to, stay at home minding the household and raising children, and give up pretending to run a job professionally and acting all independent.'

Luna smiled at her partner. 'Charmed, I'm sure.'

**Yes, I know there wasn't much happening in that chapter, but it's all necessary in order to set up later events, I promise! Just bear with me, alright? And yes, I did make Tonks still be alive. I couldn't resist. Lupin's alive too, but probably won't be in this story. Sue me.**


	3. Chapter 3: Detecting

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Not even a little bit.**

'Alright' said Hermione, pacing their office. 'Shoot.'

'The post arrived at 10:18 or there about, Hogwarts letter included, and the mother – Mrs. Cooper- brought the letter upstairs to Ethan.' Began Luna, sitting at the desk and apparently absorbed doodling on a sheet of scrap parchment. 'She gave the letter to him, went back downstairs again, and heard or saw nothing unusual until around 12:45, when she went upstairs to tell him lunch was ready, and….'

'Found him dead' finished Hermione.

'Yes.'

'Were they alone in the house?'

'Just the two of them, yes. Father was at work, older sister away at University.'

'Hmm…' murmured Hermione, deep in thought. 'Would she have seen anyone entering the house?'

'Undoubtedly. She couldn't see the door itself, but she had an unrestricted view of the hall and the stairs. She saw nobody.' Luna paused. 'It's worth noting that she never actually discovered the contents of the Hogwarts letter. She is still unaware of the magical community.'

'That _is_ interesting.' remarked Hermione. 'The letter was burned to ashes. Why burn the letter? They had already killed the child, what did they gain from delaying their escape?'

Luna finished her doodle with a flourish. Hermione leaned over, and saw it was a small map of Ethan Cooper's room with all the possible ways in marked and annotated. In the corner was a caricature of Hermione, and something that the witch strongly suspected was a Crumple-Horned Snorkack. 'Your turn' Luna reminded her. 'What have you got?'

Hermione consulted a small blue notepad before answering. 'Time of death 10:23, five minutes after the letter arrived. We have no way of knowing whether Ethan had already read the letter before he was killed, but it is probable he did. Cause of death, one use of the cutting curse – sectumsempra- aimed at the back of the head. It severed right through the brain.'

Luna hissed. 'Nasty.'

'Powerful, too' Hermione nodded. 'Sectumsempra usually only causes severe wounds, rather than actually cutting through the target.'

Luna frowned in thought. 'The _back_ of the head, you say?'

'That's right.'

'And he was facing…?'

'Away from the door, towards the window.'

'So the killer must have come through the door, which means getting past Mrs Cooper, who saw nothing…'

'A disillusionment charm?' suggested Hermione quickly.

'Or they could have simply modified Mrs. Cooper's memory' added Luna.

'True.'

Hermione looked at her notes again. 'The window showed no traces of magic, so they definitely did get through the door. We can presume they killed the child first, and then set fire to his Hogwarts letter, and then left the way they arrived.'

There was a moment of contemplative quiet.

'So…' said Hermione, breaking the silence eventually. 'What we've got is a murder with actually no suspects. We know they were magical, because otherwise they couldn't have got past Mrs. Cooper, and we know it wasn't her because she couldn't cast the curse that killed the victim. That really doesn't narrow things down much.' She sighed. 'Give me a locked room mystery any day.'

'The question is not whom.' Said Luna slowly, in her slightly absent tone of voice. 'The question is _why_.'

Ω

The door to their office burst open, breaking them out of their thoughts, and Tonks' assistant, Marcus Threft, entered, looking flustered and out of breath.

'The Chief wants you' he said agitatedly. 'There's been another one.'

'Another what?' asked Hermione quickly.

'Another murder. Just like the first.' he said, gesturing anxiously to the door. Luna and Hermione swept past him, striding towards Tonks' office, while he hurried a step or two behind them in an advanced state of worry. They strode into Tonks office to find her waiting for them, reading a file.

'Mabel Latimer, eleven year-old' she said without looking up. 'Murdered in exactly identical circumstances, right down to the burned letter and the curse used.'

There was a long pause.

'Blast.' said Hermione quietly. Then she leapt into action. 'You, Threft, contact Hogwarts and get a list of all the muggle-borns sent letters who have not yet received them' she ordered quickly. Threft paused a moment, and then ducked out of the office with a respectful nod.

Hermione continued, speaking with an almost frantic speed. 'One murder is exactly that – _one_ murder. But two identical ones mean that they've not finished yet. There's nothing linking the two victims, except their acceptance letters, correct?' She aimed this last at Tonks, who nodded.

'As far as we can tell.'

'Then those letters must be what the murderer is focusing on. And we can use that to catch them.'

Luna nodded. 'Predict their actions. Very good.' she said vaguely.

Tonks looked grim. 'This is getting worse by the day.'

Threft hurried in, holding a sheaf of parchment. 'The list of potential students' he announced, holding it out for Hermione. The witches stared at him.

'How on earth did you get it so quickly?' asked Tonks, somewhat disbelievingly. 'Have they invented owls that travel at the speed of light?'

'Well-' began Luna.

'Not really, Luna' said Hermione without looking away from Threft, who began to shift uncomfortably.

'I…have a friend in the admissions section who lent me a copy of the list' he admitted embarrassedly. 'I wanted it for an old friend – a different one – who has an eleven-year old daughter.'

'And who couldn't wait for the letter to arrive.' finished Tonks in annoyance. 'You are lucky I have bigger problems at the moment, Threft, or you'd be facing serious charges for trading and handling classified information. There's a reason that list is secret.'

'There is' confirmed Luna, who was rifling through the sheaf, 'for instance, to stop psychopathic serial killers stealing the relevant part of your list and using it to murder eleven year-olds.' She finished flicking through the parchments and pointed the papers at Threft accusingly. 'The section for the London area is not present. Is it with your friend, or…?' she let the question hang in the air.

Threft swallowed nervously. He was starting to sweat. 'I didn't give the list to anyone. It was in my desk the entire time, I swear.'

'Then' said Hermione grimly 'Someone broke into the ministry to steal it.'

Tonks was beginning to swell, and almost correspondingly, Threft was shrinking back, trying to make himself as small as possible.

'Hang on' said Luna, pointing at Hermione and ignoring Threft, who was now trying to subtly put her between him and Tonks. 'That doesn't work. How could the thief (and, presumably, murderer) know that Threft had stolen the list if he wasn't already in the ministry, and working close enough to pry into Useless here's desk when he wasn't watching?'

Hermione, looking frustrated, waved the comment off. 'Whatever. We can work that out later. The important thing is that we have the list-'

'Not the relevant bits.'

'Damn! Yes, we'll have to contact Hogwarts after all…but in the meantime, I suppose we should look at the new murder.'

Luna nodded, and the two detectives extricated themselves from the confrontation happening the office, leaving Threft with nobody to hide behind. He pressed himself against the wall as Tonks advanced slowly. The pair left, closing the doors behind them, just as the shouting started. They walked in step with each other, and in silence, both lost to their own thoughts.

**Serial killers, what fun! Things are starting to move a little quicker now, so I should be able to get a few more chapters out before the wrath of exam season hits me like the proverbial speeding train. Tell me what you think! Write a review! Flame your heart out!**


	4. Chapter 4: Baiting the Trap

**Disclaimer: Learn to tell the difference between the Great and Powerful J. K. Rowling and a lowly fanfiction-writer like myself. The difference is: one of them owns Harry Potter, and the other one doesn't. I think we all know which one I am…**_**sigh**_**.**

Luna Lovegood and Hermione Granger left the Latimer household under a cloud. Both proverbially, and, as it happened, literally. The sky had been darkening all day, and the air was thick and charged. Sometime in the next few days was going to be a storm straight from hell.

The cause of the proverbial cloud was the house they had just left. The Latimers had all been at home this time: mother, father, brother, and sister. Nobody had seen anything, but the girl – Mabel Latimer – had died in circumstances so identical to Ethan Cooper it was difficult to believe. Hermione was not sure what was worse: the fact that the killer had navigated past an entire family unfazed and untraceable, the fact that the Hogwarts letter had been burned again and so the Latimers had no idea _why_ their daughter had been murdered, or the fact that the body had been discovered by Mabel Latimer's ten-year-old brother.

They remained in grim silence as they found a deserted corner and apparated back into the Ministry. There was something deeply poignant about the murder of a child. The couple reached the door of the Auror Office before Luna spoke quietly.

'We weren't quick enough.'

Hermione glanced at her. 'There was nothing we could've done.'

Luna shook her head determinedly. 'We spent too much time worrying about reporters, and the press, and the rest of it. We should have been focusing on the children. They should always have been the priority, even over apprehending the murderer.'

She met Hermione's gaze, the melancholy and regret evident in her eyes. 'Do you remember being that young? That innocent?' Her voice took a slight edge. 'They didn't even know why they died.'

They walked for a few more minutes, the conversation hanging in the air before them, before Luna spoke again. Her voice was fierce with intensity, tinged with sorrow.

'Don't let me lose focus again. Don't let me forget what our real purpose is.'

Ω

They reached their office, where the black mood was dispelled slightly by an examination of the letterbox. Tossing a hate letter aside unopened, Hermione brandished a sealed roll of parchment triumphantly.

'Hah!' she cried. Frowning a little, she paused, looking at the parchment. 'Now I know our security really _is_ completely useless.' she said. 'Anyone could have walked by and picked this up, and we'd have been none the wiser.'

'Not entirely' corrected Luna, peering at the letter. 'There's a charm to prevent anyone except you, me, Tonks or the admissions officer opening this.'

Surprised, Hermione reappraised the parchment roll. 'Oh. Well that's good.' she said mildly.

Luna sighed and unlocked their door, lighting the lamps inside with a flick of her wand. Hermione broke the seal on the letter, and spread it out on the desk. Luna looked over her shoulder as she scanned it quickly.

'Here!' Hermione pointed. 'London and surrounding environs.' She ran her finger down the list. 'Only three children. Ethan Cooper, Mabel Latimer, and Carla Banbury.'

'No surprise who will be the next target, then' said Luna. 'When was the owl sent off?'

Hermione perused the list again. She drew in breath sharply. 'Oh, Merlin…'

'What?' asked Luna worriedly.

'Six hours ago. Which means…'

The couple looked at each other in growing horror. 'It should be arriving any minute.'

Thirty seconds later, the office was deserted again.

Ω

The rain was lashing down in sheets as Hermione and Luna arrived at the Banbury household at a run. Hermione got to the door slightly quicker, and knocked hurriedly. It was opened by a tall, dark-haired man of around forty or so.

'Mr. Banbury?' asked Hermione.

'That's right, yeah. Who are you?'

'Plainclothes police, sir' said Hermione quickly, falling back on their standby. She flashed her id, which was charmed to read 'Police' for muggles and 'Aurors' for wizards. It was easier that way, and less reliant on memory charms.

Luna stepped forward. 'We need to speak to your daughter, sir. Urgently.'

Mr. Banbury, surprise and concern both on his face, slowly opened the door. Luna and Hermione followed him up the stairs towards the back of the house. 'Carla?' he called.

'Yes?' a young voice replied from a room at the end of the hall, and Luna and Hermione relaxed visibly. The letter hadn't arrived yet. There was still time.

'There's some people who want to see you!' Mr. Banbury called back.

'Coming!'

Hermione suddenly turned to Luna. 'The storm!' she said with quiet excitement. 'It's been building all day, it must be delaying the owl.'

Luna nodded, and murmured 'that still doesn't give us much time.'

Hermione leaned towards Mr. Banbury. 'It might be better if we could deal with this in Carla's room' she said in an undertone. The father looked at her distrustfully, and she continued quickly; 'Please, sir, your daughter is danger. Terrible danger. You have to trust us.'

Mr. Banbury looked at her for a long minute. She didn't falter or drop his gaze. Finally, he nodded. 'This way.'

They reached the door just as it burst open and a small, bushy-haired girl sped out, straight into Luna. Mr. Banbury tried to catch the stumbling girl, but Luna had already steadied her. The witch knelt down to her level. 'You must be Carla' she said, smiling.

The girl's nervousness diminished slightly, and she nodded shyly.

Luna looked into her face, alight with innocence and the childish solemnity of youth. And she swore to herself then that nothing would ever harm the girl.

'Hello, Carla' she said. 'My name is Luna Lovegood.'

Ω

Hermione sat at the kitchen table, trying not to show her anxiety. The Hogwarts letter could arrive any minute, meaning they had very little time to prepare. Luna had opted to talk to Carla, leaving Hermione with the near impossible task of convincing Mr. Banbury to let his daughter be used as bait.

Not that she'd phrase it that way, of course.

'Mr. Banbury…'

She had always found this part difficult. Her area was facts and figures, not people. She could analyse people, cross-examine people, bluff and double-bluff people. But looking across the table at the worried father's face, she still found times like this hard.

She started again, and somehow found the words. 'Mr. Banbury, what I'm about to ask of you is something no parent should ever have to face. I will not lie to you. Something is about to happen that will put your daughter in terrible danger. It has happened twice before in as many days. Both times, the child in question was killed.'

She took a deep breath. 'This is what is going to happen, Mr. Banbury. Sometime this evening a letter will arrive addressed to Carla. It will be written on thick paper and signed in green ink. You will deliver it to your daughter, and as she reads it, a figure will appear and cut her down, burning the letter into a pile of ash before he leaves.

This is what has happened both times. However, this time things will go a little differently. This time, my partner and I will be waiting for him. He will not escape justice a third time.'

Mr. Banbury looked shaken, and had gone very pale. He opened his mouth and shut it a few times without speaking. Hermione pressed her advantage.

'If you ask it of us, we can take Carla to a safe location, somewhere she will be in no danger. But she'd spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder. We can't protect her forever. _You_ can't protect her forever. And we would be left to wait for the murderer's next victim to appear.'

She leaned across the table and looked hard at the shocked man. 'I'm asking you to trust us, sir. Give us the opportunity to save the lives of children you don't even know. Children like Carla. And I give you my word, we will do everything we possibly can to protect your daughter.'

'Can you guarantee her safety?' he asked shakily.

Hermione hesitated only a moment. 'No. Not with a clear conscience. But I can guarantee that no-one will harm her while me or Ms. Lovegood is still standing.' She gave a dangerous smile. 'And we are hard to get through, Mr. Banbury.'

Luna appeared at the door, looking grim with anticipation. 'Carla has agreed' the blonde woman said to the pair. She turned to Mr. Banbury. 'Sir, the choice is with you.'

Joshua Banbury looked from one of the detectives to the other. Both were unreadable. He swallowed with difficulty, and one of his hands was clenched tightly. After a long, long moment, he broke the silence.

'Alright.'

Ω

Carla sat on her bed, a book open in front of her, and tried not to look at the two dark shapes hidden almost imperceptibly in the corners of her room, one in the shadow of the wardrobe, the other crouched behind the writing desk. It was now full dark outside, and everything was still and silent. The air was heavy in anticipation of thunder. Carla swallowed, the sound very loud in the stillness, and turned the page of the book she was pretending to read.

Hermione was crouched in the shadows of the writing desk, her wand held loosely in her hand. She had remained in that position for nearly half an hour without moving, and was still prepared to spring forwards at the slightest motion. Though her head didn't move, her eyes flicked across to Luna before settling on the door again. She never knew how Luna could be so blasted calm in these situations. It was like waiting for an exam to fall, the minutes stretching onwards slowly while you remained tensed and nervous. Waiting was going to kill her someday.

Luna was watching the door from the shadow of the large wardrobe. When it came to it, two wands were better than one, and so they had decided to both be in the room and risk greater chance of detection. The nightflicks were out in force, she noted. The small, yellow, insect-like creatures were almost impossible to see if you didn't believe in them. They fed off of fear, the stronger the better, and so lurked in places with either many humans or many bad memories. They were almost obscuring the pages of Carla's book. She glanced at Hermione momentarily, and at Carla, and then back at the door. She strained to hear the sound of the owl.

There was a rush of wings in front of the window, and Carla drew in breath quickly. In the silence they easily heard the rattle of the letterbox, and the sound of Mr. Banbury moving downstairs. After a moment he walked into the room, calling 'Carla! There's a letter for you, darling' with barely a quaver in his voice.

Carla ran to him with energy born of nervousness and hugged him quickly before taking the envelope. The man squinted into the shadows, took a deep breath, and walked out again. Carla, head high, walked back to her bed and sat on it, humming quietly to herself. Hermione's heart seemed unnaturally loud. Since Luna had stopped focusing on them, the nightflicks had vanished again.

Carla opened the envelope and took the letter out. The Hogwarts crest was visible from where the two detectives hid, tense and focused. They heard Mr. Banbury reach the bottom of the stairs.

Every breath was bated. Outside, the storm finally broke with a thunderous crash. Lightning flashed down, splitting the darkened clouds with yellow fire, and the rain fell from the sundered sky in a sweeping, endless torrent. Inside, everything was silent, and tense with anticipation.

Carla unfolded the thick parchment with barely shaking hands.

There was one, single, endless moment of waiting.

And then all hell broke loose.

**Mwahahahahahahaha! Thought you'd get to the action, did you? Think again. Still, as they say, when life gives you cliff-hangers, grind your teeth and curse the author. Remember to review! It's the only indication I get of whether I'm doing a good job. Good reviews, bad reviews, even a single emoticon is welcome!**


	5. Chapter 5: The Line of Fire

**Did he just write two chapters in one week? Did he just do it?**

**Yes he did.**

**Hold on to your hats, folks, 'cause we're cooking with **_**gas.**_

**Disclaimer: The purpose of a disclaimer is to disclaim, and so in denying any connection or affiliation with the actual canon of Harry Potter beyond reverent fanhood, I can fulfil this purpose fully and effectively. Or, in layman's terms, I don't own Harry Potter.**

The window burst in in a shower of glass shards, sending light dancing across the room. Behind the knife-like slivers, a curse streaked towards the defenceless girl, who, to her eternal credit, didn't scream, but followed Hermione and Luna's instructions and rolled off of the bed away from the curse, taking shelter behind the heavy piece of furniture.

Hermione turned quickly in her hiding place, cursing vehemently inside her head as a figure dressed entirely in black, right down to the hooded cloak that cast his face into shadow, appeared inside the window. The killer had always come through the door, and so it hadn't occurred to her that he might enter a different way, if there was a convenient roof from a neighbouring house to get to it from. The figure sent another curse at Carla and missed, carving long gashes in the wooden bed frame and bed linen as the girl cowered behind it.

Hermione sent a quick stunner towards the killer and was rewarded with him jerking back in surprise, evidently not expecting magical resistance. Luna joined in as the two detectives slung curses at the tall figure, who recovered quickly and blocked them with, if not ease, then at least with skill. The killer sent a string of spells across the room, causing them all to duck back behind cover, and when the detectives sent their replying spells, the element of surprise had worn off. The figure was _good_, thought Hermione as they traded hexes. More than good, brilliant. She hadn't fought an opponent like this in years.

Jets of light shot around the room as the fight developed, but even with the figure's skill, the advantage of numbers and staying behind cover meant that Luna and Hermione slowly began to get the upper hand. The killer's cutting curses became increasingly wild, until, realising their position was untenable, the figure sent several disarming spells in all directions, and as the two Aurors recoiled slightly, swept out of the window again and into the night.

Hermione leapt forward immediately, sprinting across to the window and throwing her head out of it, only to jerk back as a curse shot through the window and nearly separated her head from her shoulders. By the time she looked back out of the window, the murderer had already disapparated. She turned back into the room with a sigh, saw Clara, and suddenly felt like all the air had been punched out of her.

Luna was kneeling next to Clara, holding the girl in her arms. The cutting curse Hermione had avoided had hissed into the room and slammed directly into the eleven year-old, who had just stood up from behind the bed. Her torso was scored with deep cuts, and blood was seeping into the carpet. She was barely conscious. Hermione stared in shock and horror at the girl that, even with them both in the room, they had been unable to protect. Guilt and sorrow racked her body and burned like fire.

At this moment, the door burst open and Mr. Banbury entered at a run. 'What happened? Did you catch them? Is-' he began, but stopped when he saw Clara.

'Sweet Jesus' he whispered, in the voice of someone whose world has just shattered. 'Clara. No…'

He fell to his knees at the girl's side and bowed his head brokenly, tears falling onto the ghastly wounds that decorated her chest. Her eyes were closed, now.

Hermione looked at them, and the guilt became physically painful.

Ω

Two and a half hours later, Luna stood with Hermione in the Thaddeus Crimpin Ward for emergency spell damage treatment in St. Mungo's Hospital, and watched as the healers finished dealing with the worst of Carla's injuries.

They had apparated with Carla and her father to the hospital, and been forced to watch helplessly as the healers struggled with the deep, wide cuts, the blood loss, and the continued unconsciousness. It had been agonising, but now it appeared to be over. A white-robed healer walked over to Luna, where she stood at the bedside with Hermione and Mr. Banbury.

'Verity Maddenthorpe' she introduced herself. 'Detective Granger…Detective Lovegood…Mr. Banbury…' the healer shook each of their hands in turn. Then she took a deep breath.

'It's serious, but not fatal' she said, and Luna nearly collapsed with relief. Hermione exhaled deeply and Mr. Banbury looked several years younger. Healer Maddenthorpe smiled, continuing 'there is extensive damage to the torso, and we're not sure whether it will scar or not. But she will otherwise recover fully. We're keeping her unconscious at the moment until she wakes up naturally, so as to speed the body's healing.'

'She's going to be fine' breathed Mr. Banbury almost inaudibly. 'God above, she's going to be fine.'

Outside the ward, Luna sank into a chair next to Hermione, more relieved than she could say. She had promised to take care of Carla. It was shattering to think how close she had come to failing. Even now, when she was sitting trying to calm herself and slow the adrenalin rush that had kept her going for the past few hours, her normally calm and serene mind was in turmoil with overwhelming fear and horrified guilt being replaced with simple, mind-numbing relief.

She looked at Hermione, who was gripping the back of the chair very hard, and they shared a slight smile. They hadn't caught the murderer. They hadn't even got any identification. But Carla Banbury was safe.

And at the moment, that was enough.

Ω

Back at their office, it was now nearly three o'clock in the morning, and Hermione and Luna were working with the energy of people who have stayed up all night and aren't going to give up now. The knowledge that Carla was going to live had been like a second wind to them, and they strode up and down the office, tirelessly throwing ideas off of each other in an attempt to second-guess the killer's identity or next move.

'We can guess by their build and physique that they're a man' said Hermione, and Luna nodded.

'Good reflexes, pretty agile, and a duelling champion to boot.' she added.

'Agreed. This was no ordinary criminal.'

Hermione frowned. 'Hang on a moment. What spells did they use?'

Luna' brow furrowed as she tried to remember. 'Disarming spells, mostly. A couple of stunners. And Sectumsempra.'

'Exactly!' said Hermione excitedly. 'The cutting curse is uncommon in the extreme. Snape invented it after all, and kept it unknown for years. I only discovered it when Harry found it in Snape's old potions book. Even with that…'

'We can narrow the suspects down enormously' said Luna with a quick grin. 'Hermione, that's inspired.'

'I'd say only a handful of people at school with us found out about the curse then.' reasoned Hermione. 'Me, Harry, Ron…Draco Malfoy, of course-now there's an idea…'

'I don't think it's Draco Malfoy' said Luna flatly.

'He's been keeping himself to himself lately, after marrying that Slytherin girl, what's-her-name, but that doesn't mean he hasn't started something recently' protested Hermione.

'Astoria Greengrass' said Luna vaguely. 'And my instincts tell me it's not him.'

Hermione sighed deeply. 'Fine. Malfoy's out. That doesn't leave many people. It could be a Death Eater, I bet Snape showed them the curse, but there's not many of them left at large.'

'And even less who would be willing to risk their freedom' said Luna offhand, who had sat down and was watching the magical sky outside the windows gradually lighten.'

Hermione sat down heavily in her chair and put her head in her hands. 'I swear, we're just going in circles without getting anywhere here.'

Ω

**I know, action sequences are not my forte. Ah well. Also, there's been a lot of OCs in this fanfiction, but I promise you, the murderer is not one of them. You will recognise him when you see him. Kudos for people who can guess who he is beforehand!**


	6. Chapter 6: Gone

**Chapter 6, people! Wow, it's almost like I **_**want**_** to be writing this stuff.**

**Disclaimer: I am not J. K. Rowling. However, I do have a plan to kidnap and replace her. It involves several stunning spells, a large, magically locked chest, and a **_**lot**_** of polyjuice potion.**

The magical dawn filtered through the windows of the Detection Office, lighting the room with, if not natural light, then at least a masterful impression of it. Inside, the two detectives were sitting together on the large windowsill. Hermione had fallen asleep with her head on Luna's shoulder, and Luna sat, still and quiet, watching the dawn make her bushy brown hair shine. As the light slowly brightened, the peaceful tableau was broken as Hermione stirred and sat up slowly.

'How long was I out?' she asked blearily, rubbing her eyes and squinting at the lightened office.

'Since about four' Luna replied easily. 'You were busy enough yesterday, it seemed a shame to wake you. And you looked so peaceful.'

'And you were awake all that time?' Hermione asked, concerned and a little more alert. 'You must be shattered. You should have woken me and we could've apparated home.'

'I like night-time. It's still and quiet' said Luna unworriedly. 'And I could watch you. I'll survive.'

Hermione sighed, stood up and stretched, groaning quietly as her muscles protested the exertion yesterday and her neck told her that she had spent hours leaning on Luna. Luna stood, lithe and easy as a cat, and yawned slightly when Hermione was looking the other way.

There was a rustle outside and the two aurors caught each other's eye, frowning. It was far too early for the post. Waiting a few moments, Hermione left the office cautiously, and returned a short while later with a letter in her hand.

She handed it to Luna, who opened it, noticed the sender in surprise, skimmed the letter and said, 'Snorkacks.'

'What?' asked Hermione, bemused.

'Snorkacks. I'm using it as an exclamation. I'd seemed appropriate, somehow. I considered 'Holy Snorkacks' but it felt a bit blasphemous.'

'Right…' said Hermione slowly. 'Now, how about you just tell me who wants to write to us at seven in the morning? And why?'

'Viridian Lethwick wants a meeting.'

'What?' inquired Hermione, startled.

'Well, that wasn't an exclamation, so I don't know what you're going 'what' like that for.' said Luna, deadpan.

'What? Oh, never mind.' replied Hermione in exasperation. Seeing Luna smirking, she quickly changed the subject. 'Why does Lethwick want to talk to us?'

'He's a reporter. He wants to talk to the people who have news. He wants to find out what information they have, discover what they left out and then publish it as provocatively as possible in sensationalist fringe papers. I thought we'd established all of this.' said Luna.

Hermione sighed. 'I don't suppose we can ignore him?' she said, and Luna shook her head.

'Right. I didn't think so.'

Luna walked over to her coat and moved to pick it up. Hermione stopped her.

'No no no.' she said, waggling a finger. 'You are going home to sleep. Don't think that you can yawn and think I won't notice just because I'm looking somewhere else. I will deal with Lethwick.'

'But-' began Luna, and stopped when Hermione gave her a look. 'Fine. Be careful though. Slippery customer, Lethwick. Most people don't realise they've been duped before he's already left the building.'

'I'll be fine, but thanks for the warning. You can come back into work in the afternoon, when you've slept for a few hours.'

'The Banburys' said Luna vaguely. 'They only got the Hogwarts letter yesterday, and they were a bit preoccupied then. Someone needs to talk to them, especially Clara.'

'You're right' agreed Hermione. 'So you can do that in the afternoon. I may meet you there, depending how long it takes to get Lethwick to sling his proverbial hook. And then we can track down the murderer.'

She paused, then sank into her chair. 'Why is everything so busy?' she said tiredly. 'Dealing with idiot egotist reporters on top of confused children _and_ serial killers.'

'I think now might be a good time for an exclamation invoking the Crumple-Horned Snorkack' said Luna solemnly, and then they were both laughing.

'Holy Snorkacks' said Hermione.

'Holy Snorkacks' agreed Luna.

Ω

It was nearing four in the afternoon when Luna arrived at St. Mungo's and headed to Carla's ward. Despite what she had said to Hermione, once she had lain down, thirty-six hours of nerve-wracking tension and split-second action in turn had caught up with her, and she had slept like the dead until late afternoon. Upon reaching the ward, Healer Maddenthorpe had explained to her that Carla, while in no danger, was still unconscious.

She turned and saw Mr. Banbury sitting in the corner, re-reading Carla's Hogwarts letter. He nodded as she walked up to him.

'How are you coping?' she asked. 'You look a bit overwhelmed.'

'I'll survive.' he replied with a faint smile. 'It's just a lot to take in, is all.'

'Most people get a rather gentler introduction into the world of magic' she admitted, and he chuckled.

'I should hope so.'

'Questions?'

'Dozens, Detective. Do you want them one at a time, or in one long stream?'

Luna sat down in the chair next to him. 'Perhaps one by one. And call me Luna.'

The man re-appraised her. 'Alright, Luna.' He held out his hand, and she shook it. 'My name is Joshua.'

Ω

When Luna left the hospital and apparated to the Ministry, the sun was beginning to sink. They had talked for well over an hour of everything in the magical world, from politics to education to sport. Joshua had had many questions, and sat quietly attentive as Luna did her best to answer them. She felt she owed it to the man, after everything, to at least try and smooth his transition into a new and different world.

She appeared in the atrium and began to walk briskly. Now, as she strode through the corridors to her office, her mind turned once again to the murderer. It just didn't seem to add up somehow. Something didn't fit.

Upon reaching the door, she found it ajar and frowned. Hermione never left the door open, and she wouldn't have left the office unlocked if she was away meeting Lethwick. Pushing open the door, she walked into the office and stopped suddenly as she saw its occupant. A tall, thin man with dark hair and a small goatee was sitting relaxed in one of the chairs. He appeared deep in thought, but looked up when Luna entered.

He smiled, flashing very white teeth. 'Miss Lovegood. How pleasant to meet you again' he said smoothly. He practically exuded suave charm.

Luna scowled. 'Lethwick. How did you get in?'

He smiled again. 'With some difficulty, I can assure you. It took me almost twenty minutes to break your locking charm.'

'And your motive for breaking and entering into a Ministry detective's office?'

'I had an appointment arranged, to meet with yourself or your charming partner. I had hoped that one or the other of you would have the courtesy to attend.'

Luna sighed. 'If this is your attempt to bluff into two interviews for the price of one, forget it. I will tell you what Hermione told you. Get lost.'

Lethwick appeared puzzled, though the genuine emotion was at least a welcome change from his charm. 'Miss Granger? She didn't say anything to me.'

Luna snorted. 'Right. Just sat through your all your manipulations and scandal-mongering in silence, then?'

'On the contrary, she didn't appear at all.'

'Don't be ridiculous. I saw her leave myself.'

'Why do you think I spent my -very valuable, I might add- afternoon sitting in your office if Miss Granger had already answered my questions?'

Luna stared at him. 'How long did you wait at the meeting point?'

'Three hours' replied Lethwick coolly. 'And even if she had missed me there, surely she would have returned to here?' He smirked. 'Perhaps you should form a search party.'

Luna gave him a dangerous look. 'Lethwick. One, shut up. Two, go away. Is that clear enough?'

He sighed dramatically. 'I see my attempts to get a story are to be sadly ignored. Nevertheless, if you are looking for the young lady, you might find me…useful.'

'I have the Auror Office, should I require it' said Luna bluntly. 'I don't need your help. I certainly don't want it.'

'The Auror Office is a bunch of inexperienced incompetents, detective.' said Lethwick. 'You must realise this. You've had to recruit heavily after the war, and not everyone learns as quickly as yourself or Miss Granger. I have a network of contacts and informants who can find your partner twice as quickly as anyone the Auror Office can muster.'

Luna stared at him. One the one hand, the less she had to do with Lethwick, the happier she'd be, and there was no doubt in her mind that his help wouldn't be free. On the other, everything he said was painfully true, and if something had happened to Hermione…

'It's a little early to leap to conclusions' she said, and gestured him out of the door. 'I need to find some information before we know there is any need for a search party.'

Lethwick smiled. 'You never change, Detective. You are just as stubborn as your father.'

'Yes, I remember the two of you meeting' said Luna. 'He's still got your hat hung up on the wall. You left in such a hurry and never came back for it.'

'He would, I suspect, have not given it back willingly' replied Lethwick, and allowed himself to be ushered out of the office. 'He was always very proud.'

He gave a short bow. 'If your mood should change, you know where to find me.'

He swept of through the corridors, his cloak trailing behind him. Luna muttered a curse, and waited until he was out of sight. Then she took out a small round galleon from her pocket and carefully inspected it. She squinted at the rim, where instead of the serial number were engraved the letters 'hel'. The end of the 'l' trailed off slightly. Luna drew in breath sharply, cursed, and – pocketing the coin again – took off towards Tonks' office.

**The next chapter may be a little while in coming, as I am currently embroiled in deadly combat with fourteen exams. It is unclear who is winning. Bear with me, and as always, thanks for reading.**


	7. Chapter 7: Deal with the Devil

**Hey y'all… I've been neglecting this story something awful, but I'm off school now (hooray!) so I can start again in earnest. Hopefully you won't have to wait this long for chapter eight.**

**Disclaimer: Here, Gilderoy Lockhart would claim he did, in fact write Harry Potter, and J.K. Rowling is a pseudonym. I, however, am rather more honest, and say only: Nope. Don't own it. Didn't write it.**

Luna approached Tonks' office at a pace only slightly slower than a dead run. Tonks, looking up at the noise and seeing her through the window, gestured to Threft her assistant and brushed aside the papers she was attempting to read.

'Open the door, Threft. And then you can go.'

Threft hurriedly opened the door and then scuttled away, looking relieved to be out of the way of the oncoming detective. He glanced nervously behind him as he left, wringing his hands uncomfortably.

Luna burst into the office and Tonks stood up. 'Luna, what's wrong?' she asked concernedly. It was surprising in the extreme to see Luna look so flustered.

'Hermione.' Luna said almost frantically. 'She's gone.'

'Gone? Gone where?' Tonks questioned.

'I don't know! She went off to talk to Lethwick, but then he was in the office and he said Hermione never appeared and she hasn't come back, and I checked the old DA galleon and it had 'help' written on it but the message trailed off and I don't know where she is, and-'

'Luna!' said Tonks authoritatively, cutting across the blond woman. 'Take a deep breath.'

Luna stopped, and dragged in a lungful of air.

'Now start from the beginning, and tell me slowly, leaving nothing out, exactly what happened.'

Luna took another deep breath, and began to speak a bit more calmly. Tonks listened carefully, letting Luna talk, until, after a few minutes, she finished. There was a pause.

'Oh.' said Tonks. 'Oh. Sweet Merlin.'

Ω

Three hours later, Luna sat on the doorstep of Tonks' office, thinking hard. It was maddening. Threft had said (even more anxiously than normal, and not meeting Luna's eyes) that he hadn't seen Hermione pass by, so she must have disappeared even before reaching the main part of the auror office. It certainly wasn't kidnapping, or she'd have received a ransom note by now. And although she told herself that it was unlikely the murderer had infiltrated the ministry to exact some kind of revenge, she couldn't shake the image of Hermione, lying in a darkened corner, the back of her head blown off by a curse.

There was a window that the murderer could have go past in – Threft had gone on an errand and someone could have snuck through while he was away. A small corridor between the Detection Office and the rest of the ministry. Small, deserted corridor, with a window onto his office. It was the only real solution, and unfortunately meant that Hermione could be almost anywhere in the ministry. The further they went, the greater the chance of detection, and they would certainly have been seen leaving the atrium, so Hermione won't have left the apparition wards. Which really wasn't much consolation.

Luna looked up, breaking out of her musings as Tonks returned, and she could immediately tell it wasn't good news.

Tonks stopped, looked at her, and said 'Nothing.' That was all that was needed. The aurors had been searching for the better part of three hours now, and it was completely clear Hermione wasn't anywhere in the vicinity.

Luna set her mouth in a hard line. Three hours. They couldn't afford to spend any more time searching blindly. 'Fine.' she said grimly. 'Desperate times…' She stood, and walked away swiftly.

Ω

She heard voices when she reached Lethwick's meeting point. He, as a freelance reporter, didn't have an official office in the ministry, but tended to commandeer one when it was needed. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and knocked on the door. The voices stopped, and after a moment Lethwick opened the door.

Upon seeing Luna, his expression grew into one that seemed simultaneously courteous and poised and irredeemably smug. He ushered her into the office.

'Miss Lovegood. How nice of you to join us. Had a change of heart? It's been…' he checked an old-fashioned gold pocket-watch 'Three hours and eighteen minutes. Time is surely running out.'

Luna glared at him, but kept her voice calm. 'Thank you, I am in fact aware of that. Hence my visit. I would speak to you about your lawful duty to report any information you may have to an auror, but I know how much good that would do. What's your price?'

Lethwick's smile grew even broader. 'Price? Oh no, Detective, I wouldn't dream of it. It's merely my _lawful duty_, you must understand.'

'Don't play games with me, Lethwick. You never do anything for free.'

'Well, I would consider it a personal favour if you would allow me to accompany you on your investigations into this dreadful triple murder.' Lethwick admitted.

'Double' Luna corrected him. His eyes gleamed.

'_Double_ murder, of course. I am as certain as you that no harm has befallen your partner. But I would anyways like to be…in at the kill, if you take my meaning.'

'I don't take passengers' said Luna bluntly.

Lethwick checked his watch again. 'One doesn't wish to boast, of course, but I am quietly confident, should you agree to enlist my aid, that I can have you reunited with Miss Granger, alive or dead, in twenty minutes flat.'

Luna stared at him. 'Tell me what you know.'

'We have an agreement?'

'Tell me what you know.' She repeated, lower and more dangerously.

He sighed, and gestured to the other occupant of the room, who had remained silent until this point. 'I have, as it happens, already made some enquiries of my own. Saul, tell the Detective what you told me.'

The man, grey-haired and troubled-looking, glanced between the reporter and the detective, and said 'My name is Saul Croaker. I'm an unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries, so there's some pretty tight security, which means we picked it up when someone entered the Hall of Prophecy unauthorised.'

'When?' asked Luna quickly.

'Around thirteen hours ago. Seven in the morning. By the time we got there, they had left and the wards were back in place, so we disregarded it. It was five minutes only.'

'Did you search the Hall? To check if anything was missing, for instance?' inquired Luna sharply. Croaker nodded.

'Yes. We checked the area near the entrance, and found nothing amiss.'

Luna stood, deep in thought for a moment. Then she sprang around and made for the door. In the doorway, she paused reluctantly and looked at Lethwick.

'Are you coming or not?'

Ω

The unlikely pair ran through the corridors. Lethwick fancied himself as a fast walker, but Luna moved at an effortless pace that put him to shame. To begin with, he'd asked her to slow down. She'd responded with a curt 'If you want to trail along, you'll have to keep up.' He hadn't asked again.

They reached the lift, and the golden cage opened. 'I didn't know there were wards on the Hall of Prophecy' said Luna as they descended deeper into the earth. Lethwick, trying to surreptitiously catch his breath, glanced sideways at her.

'There weren't until a few years ago. They added them quietly after six teenagers and half of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's army managed to get in without them having any idea.'

Luna nodded. 'Ah. So therefore, whoever it was must have also not known, meaning they were from outside the Department of Mysteries but picked it as an ideal spot to hide…something…- it's secretive and out of the way. Probably an unplanned act, or they would have guessed there would be defences. It's only the most clandestine part of the Ministry, not to mention where all the secret Heliopaths from Fudge's reign are stored.'

Lethwick looked interested at this last remark, but thought better of asking, giving Luna another sideways glance. The lift came to a rattling stop of the ninth floor, and the two exited. They were about to set off when it came down again, and Tonks stepped out.

'I got your message, though don't ask me how you got a lead when half the Auror Office is running around like headless chickens and finding nothing' she said, before noticing Lethwick. Her expression changed minutely, and she muttered under her breath: 'Oh. Him.'

Tonks looked around again. 'Alright then, let's go.'

Ω

They moved quickly through the department of mysteries, the polished black stones gleaming in the walls and underfoot. Luna was the first of the three to reach the Hall of Prophecy, bursting through the outer parts of the department with single-minded fixation. Tonks and Lethwick were a few paces behind her. Luna paused at the door to the Hall, waiting impatiently for Tonks to show her wand to the warding-point. With a quiet hiss, the wards accepted Tonks as authorised to enter and opened for the three to go through. Luna glanced around, scanning the long, towering rows of prophecies.

'Homonem Revelio' she said quietly, raising her wand. She paused, and tried to keep her voice steady. 'No people.'

Tonks lighted the end of her wand and squinted down the towering aisles of prophecies. 'It certainly looks undisturbed. Are you sure about this?'

'To a reasonable degree' said Lethwick, also scanning the area with his lighted wand held above his head.

Luna fought down the rising sense of panic that had returned with a vengeance. 'How reasonable?' she asked sharply.

'Certain enough' replied Lethwick.

'Stake your life?'

The journalist glanced sidelong at Luna. She didn't need to highlight the subtext. _If you're leading me on a false trail, you will very much regret it…_

After a moment, he nodded. 'Stake my life.'

'Good.' Luna stepped into the centre of the corridor, glancing around the darkened rows. She thought hard. 'So, Hermione is in here somewhere. But there are no humans. Quod erat demonstrandum, Hermione is no longer in human form. Now, think think think think think…' she spun around, looking all about her. 'What do you transfigure a prone body into to hide it here?'

'A prophecy' said Tonks.

Luna nodded. 'Of course! We just need to find it! Fully transfiguring a human, especially a live one, is extremely difficult to achieve, so it is likely there will be some mark or imperfection on the globe. And it can't be far in, with the time they had to plant it there.'

'Luna' said Tonks wearily 'There are hundreds, thousands of prophecies in this room. We don't have the time to check them all. Logically, Hermione will be almost impossible to find.'

Luna shot Tonks a grin that was more than slightly unnerving. 'When have I ever been logical?'

And with that she thrust her wand in the air and shouted 'Finite Incantatem!'

Ω

The Hall of Prophecy was one of the oldest parts of the Ministry. It housed thousands of individual prophecy spheres, which were made of more than just glass globes. Spells practically saturated the air: spells of building, warding, lighting… Magic was as much a part in its construction as bricks and mortar.

Luna's spell had everything she could muster behind it, and was strong enough to make the entire hall shake. Dust fell from the high vaulted ceiling as the spell, not directed at anywhere in particular, acted on the room in general, eating away at the charms holding the hall together. The prophecies nearest Luna smashed in all directions, forming a circular ring of destruction around her. The noise was deafening.

Tonks had had the prescence of mind to cast a shield charm, which was protecting her from the debris flying like shrapnel. Lethwick had not been so quick, and suffered a long cut across his cheek from a glass shard before ducking behind Tonks' shield. Luna stood unflinchingly in the middle of the maelstrom of glass and dust and magic, peering through the chaos at the shelves around her. After a moment she let out a cry of triumph, and began to wade through the pandemonium.

'Luna, are you absolutely insane?' shouted Tonks over the din. The detective disappeared from sight momentarily as the flying powdered glass and brick dust obscured her. When she became visible again, she clutched a small clear orb in her hand, perfectly smooth but for a small knot disfiguring one side. It was still undamaged.

'I've got it!' she called triumphantly, giving a broad grin as she struggled over to Tonks and Lethwick, who by now had summoned his own shield and was looking at Luna as if she was a lunatic.

Luna continued, seemingly undaunted by the havoc wreaked around her or the glances from her companions. 'The prophecy orb – it's marred, probably by an imperfect transfiguration, and it wasn't affected by the finite, so it must be defensively charmed. She pressed her wand to the sphere, and muttered a spell under her breath.

'It's definitely transfigured, but it's prevented from returning to its original form' she said after a minute. 'Whoever protected this knew what they were doing.' She grinned again. Her long blond hair was untidy and coated in dust, and she looked more than a little crazed.

She jabbed her wand at the orb sharply, and staggered as if struck, the false prophecy falling out of her hand and landing heavily on the floor. She sent another spell at it, and a third, each punctuated with a sharp jab. There was no noticeable effect.

'Luna!' called Tonks, coming out slightly from behind her shield as the dust and debris began to whirl slower, settling over the previously polished black floor.

Luna looked at Tonks. 'Get back behind cover' she said, and thrust her wand at the glass sphere in front of her.

Tonks briefly saw it burst out into a short, bushy-haired figure, and then the second explosion rocked the hall.

**As always, thanks for reading and tell me what you thought! Confusing? Glaring errors? Not bad? Kind of strange?**


	8. Chapter 8: Doctors and Deadlines

**Yeah… the 'forging ahead with this story' idea didn't go quite as smoothly as expected – I was until recently in Scotland, far away from my computer. Oh well. It's here now.**

**Disclaimer: I disclaim. I disclaim everything. I disclaim more than you can possibly imagine. I disclaim… I DISCLAIM…**

Deep within the Department of Mysteries, the Hall of Prophecy shook. The explosion caused when Luna forcibly broke the defensive charm on the false orb was added to when the charm, in a last act, augmented the power loosed to a shattering level. This last ditch manoeuvre was intended to incapacitate the charm's breaker, and it ploughed through the hall like a rampaging hippogriff.

Tonks and Lethwick, both already behind strong shields, were slammed backwards towards the door, their protego charms absorbing the brunt of the impact before buckling under its power and dissolving. Looking up from where they lay prone, they saw a maelstrom of force swirling through the already damaged shelves, reaching up to the ceiling. Dust, shrapnel, and even entire prophecies were carried up into the tempest and sent flying, riding out the magical currents or being shattered by them.

Tonks staggered to her feet, fighting against the growing winds. As more prophecies were smashed, their contents were assimilated into the tumult, which, instead of diminishing, grew larger and fiercer as they watched. The ghostly voices of seers long gone echoed loudly through the hall, reverberating off the stone walls.

'Help me!' she shouted to Lethwick over the din, directing her wand towards the storm and desperately starting to siphon off magic. The reporter stumbled up from where he lay prone and began to likewise fight the turmoil, pulling small strands of magic away to where it could harmlessly dissipate. They stood semi-crouched against the blizzard, shoulders hunched and knees bent as they tried to stay upright in the face of the sheer physical power beating down on them. One hand gripped their wands, the other was held up to protect their eyes.

Slowly it seemed, though it was probably only a few minutes, the storm began to shrink and fade, and they attacked it with renewed vigour, wands dancing as they cast faster. As the final shreds disappeared and the dust began to settle, they were able to see a small figure crouched in the centre of the diminishing storm, head bowed in exhaustion. Luna's hand was thrust into the air, keeping a thin shield charm between her and the now vanished storm, while the other was cradling Hermione, who still lay prone. Now she could see her more clearly, Tonks could see that Hermione looked badly battered.

'Luna!' called Tonks, rushing forwards. The detective looked up wearily, dispelling the shield she had somehow managed to keep in place throughout the magical tempest, and nodded weakly. Dust flew from her hair when she moved.

'Hermione…' she whispered, barely audible. 'Saint Mungo's…'

'Of course' said Tonks, a weak smile breaking through. 'And I daresay you could use a visit too.'

'So tired…' she murmured, and then slowly, gently, keeled over and lay down next to Hermione.

A commotion at the door brought Tonks up sharply, and she looked as a host of unspeakables burst in and stared in shocked disbelief at the devastation. Quickly they spread out, casting reparo at the extensive damage, picking up and resorting prophecies, shoring up the ceiling beams and pillars. One strode up to Tonks, bristling with rage.

'Auror Tonks, what in Merlin's name happened here? The Hall of Prophecy is one of the oldest and most revered parts of the entire ministry! You can't just stroll in here and blow it up!'

She looked flatly at him. 'A criminal staged the kidnapping of a ministry official and three attempted murders in your precious hall. He broke in this morning, and no-one in your department noticed or investigated the disturbance. If they had, you wouldn't be cleaning fragments for the next three days. Think on that, before you try to stand on your pride.'

The man opened and closed his mouth several times speechlessly. Ignoring him, Tonks strode over to Hermione and Luna and, levitating them both gently into the air, marched away to where she could apparate to the hospital.

Ω

Healer Maddenthorpe met Tonks outside the Emergency Spell Damage Ward. Lethwick had made a half-hearted attempt to follow her and beg an interview. She had told him in no uncertain terms to take a hike.

'No, no, no' said Maddenthorpe, upon seeing Tonks come towards the ward. 'No, Carla isn't awake yet. No, you can't speak to her. Go away and let me work in peace.'

'If you want peace you picked the wrong job' grumbled Tonks. She looked unusually pale, Maddenthorpe thought, looking closer at the auror.

'Then…' she said, phrasing it as a question. Tonks gestured behind her as two stretchers levitated up the stairs, a figure lying prone on each of them. Verity leaned forwards to see the patients and her eyes widened in shock.

'What happened?' she asked worriedly, hurrying over and ushering Tonks and the two unconscious detectives into the ward.

'A lot.' Replied Tonks. 'Are they alright?'

'Give me a minute, for pity's sake' snapped the healer distractedly. She passed her wand over both the women, and muttered to herself for a minute or two, tapping one finger absently against the rim her glasses.

'Detective Lovegood is fairly simple' she said, straightening up after a minute. 'She has Spellcaster's Fatigue to an impressive level, but that's straightforward magical exhaustion that will disappear after a few days of rest. Three perhaps, two if she's quick to recuperate. I'd like to know what she did to drain her magical reserves so far, but that will have to wait. Detective Granger is a little more serious. What exactly happened to her?'

'She was transfigured imperfectly, and then forcibly transfigured back' answered Tonks anxiously, sinking into one of the waiting chairs and nearly overturning it.

'Steady there' said Maddenthorpe in an aside, before returning to a look of deep concentration. 'That figures, but her injuries aren't just from the transfiguration. Look here' (she gestured to a long gash on Hermione's arm) 'and here' (then to a large purple bruise on the side of her face). She was physically beaten before she was transfigured. I will want to keep her in for longer. Four days at least, maybe a week. The obvious injuries aside, we have to check that everything in her body transfigured properly and is working as it should. Be a bit uncomfortable if it turns out her heart has become an inch too small, or her kidneys are still transfigured.'

'But will it be dangerous?' pressed Tonks. The healer shook her head.

'Potentially so, if something's not right inside Hermione. But no immediate danger, and there should be nothing close to fatal if whoever transfigured her knew their business. D'you know it was?'

'We don't know who transfigured her in, but Luna transfigured her out. She had to push it – there was a defensive charm on Hermione.'

'That's probably a large part of why Lovegood's currently unconscious on a stretcher. But she's a more than capable witch, and so that makes Granger's chances considerably better.'

'Can't you tell me any more?' asked Tonks, as Maddenthorpe turned away and began to transfer Luna and Hermione to a pair of hospital beds.

'Not yet' said the healer without turning around 'but I should be able to if you come by sometime tomorrow. If you're lucky, one of them may even be conscious.'

Tonks let out a long sigh and stood up. 'Thanks for everything. I owe you one.' She chuckled. 'Or three.'

'Not a bit of it. It's my job' Maddenthorpe replied. Tonks nodded and stretched, and the healer asked; 'Are you going back to the Ministry?'

'No chance' the auror answered, checking her watch. 'I'm going home to bed.'

'Lucky for some' grumbled Maddenthorpe, before turning once again to the two patients.

Ω

It was morning, and Tonks walked through the corridors of the Ministry of Magic. She had slept patchily, and was still trying to conceal yawns upon reaching her office. Threft, her assistant, was already there.

'Good morning, ma'am. The Minister called.' he said by way of greeting. 'He wants to see you at your earliest convenience.'

Tonks sighed. 'When did he call?'

Threft bit his lip nervously. 'Half an hour ago.'

'Brilliant. I guess I'd better go see what he wants.'

Tonks made an effort to walk briskly towards the Minister's office, and was more or less awake by the time she arrived. Collecting herself, she knocked, waited a moment, and entered, trying not to trip over the carpet.

Inside the spacious office, Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister for Magic, resplendent in robes of dark purple and blue, was sitting at a large, polished dark oak desk, his bald head in his hands.

'Ah, hello Tonks' he said in his deep voice, looking up as she entered. 'Just trying to get my head around yet another painfully complicated political dispatch. I swear, do you remember there being this much paperwork as just plain aurors?'

'Not even close' replied Tonks sympathetically. 'Leadership is the ruin of us two, Kingsley. We were never meant to be in power.'

Kingsley nodded. 'I miss the little cubicle I had. They gave me this thing' (he gestured around him at the large office) 'and I've no idea what I'm meant to do with it.' He sighed deeply, before putting the subject out of mind. 'Please, sit.'

Tonks sat facing him across the desk, and he leaned forwards. 'So, Tonks. I need to know if you have any information on the serial killing case.'

Tonks shook her head regretfully. 'Not me, I'm afraid. All I can tell you is that the killer stole the childrens' addresses from my idiot of a secretary's desk. You want Hermione or Luna for more.'

'Exactly' agreed Kingsley. 'I do want Hermione or Luna. But all the information I can currently find from them is that this investigation had led to them both being incapacitated in St. Mungo's.' He stood and began to pace restlessly.

'You have to see the situation I'm in, Tonks. The magical community is out for blood. They want results, and it looks at the minute like Luna and Hermione might not be able to give us that. I've given you complete freedom on this case, but I have the press hammering on one door, and the public on the other, and they all want to know what I'm _doing_ about it. They ask me what progress has been made, and I answer; _I don't actually know, but our two best detectives are on it, and they will be able to cope._' His voice rose as he continued. 'And then it looks like they both end up in hospital, which rather undermines everything I've said to reassure people. I may be the Minister, but I'm still answerable to the whole magical community. And they aren't happy.'

He took a long, slow breath. 'I'm sorry, Tonks. But if we go a few days more without serious results, I'm going to have to be seen doing something. And at the moment that something would be putting a different team on the case.'

Kingsley gave Tonks a sympathetic look. 'I really don't want to have to do this. But right now I have no choice at all.'

Ω

**I know, a long overdue chapter where nothing much happens. Oh, joy. As always, thanks for reading. I'm predicting about two more chapters of this, maybe three, and then we've finished. As for the next chapter, I'm setting myself a seven-day deadline to get it up in the hopes that it will inspire me to finish it quicker. Adios!**


	9. Chapter 9: The Final Piece

**Bonjour, all! I meant to post this days ago, but was having serious internet problems and am only just back on the airwaves. I apologise on behalf of technology. However, we have just about reached the start of the climax at the end of this instalment, so it should be a pretty exciting chapter.**

**At least a little exciting.**

**Come on, just the teensiest, tiniest, most miniscule bit exciting?**

**Disclaimer: This is chapter nine, people. You know the drill. I solemnly affirm my disclamation blah blah blah et cetera et cetera J.K. Rowling. Good enough, right?**

It was nearing noon when Luna Lovegood woke up. Everything was bright and sharp and she had to squint for a few moments until her vision cleared and she found herself in a hospital bed. For a short while she lay there, her mind still floating in vague semiconsciousness, before she remembered the Hall of Prophecy and sat bolt upright.

'Hermione!'

Immediately she fell back again, feeling light-headed and dizzy. The events of the previous day had really drained her, and now she was paying the price for pushing on then. She saw a figure hurry over to her bed, and then Healer Maddenthorpe was leaning over her, putting a hand to her brow and restraining her from rising.

'Easy does it' she said gently. 'You're still a little groggy from yesterday, I'll warrant. It should pass pretty soon, but you are to stay in bed for at least a few hours more, and not perform any magic until tomorrow at the earliest.'

'Hermione' said Luna again, urgently trying to sit up.

'Relax' said Maddenthorpe sharply, pushing Luna down with more force. 'Miss Granger is fine. Look to your left.'

Luna craned her head, and saw a familiar bushy-haired figure unconscious on the adjacent bed. She fell back onto her mattress with a sigh of relief. 'What happened?'

Healer Maddenthorpe sat in the chair next to her bed and looked piercingly at Luna. 'How much of yesterday do you remember?'

'Not much past transfiguring Hermione' replied Luna, her voice, now less urgent, back to its usual quiet fluting.

'Well' said Maddenthorpe 'from what Auror Tonks tells me you collapsed soon after from magical exhaustion, and she brought you both here.' She gestured to Hermione to include her in this last. 'We've done all the check-ups and both of you are very lucky. You got out with nothing but Spellcaster's Fatigue, and for what Detective Granger went through, she is proving remarkably resilient.'

'What she went through?' asked Luna slowly.

'Hmm. She was transfigured twice, as you know, but even before that she was physically attacked and got a pretty savage beating. From behind, if I'm any judge, based on the bruises.'

Luna was silent for a long time. Finally she said 'I see.', and her gaze was stony and her voice was like ice.

Ω

The day had grown to early afternoon before Luna managed to convince Healer Maddenthorpe that she was well enough to stretch her legs around the hospital. Now she was walking from floor to floor, with no particular aim but relishing the use of her legs again. She stood, looking out of a window that gave her a good view of the London street upon which the hospital was situated, when she saw a person pass into her peripheral vision whom she recognised. She spun around, levelling her wand calmly at his face, and smiled her pleasantest smile.

'Mundungus Fletcher' she said, keeping her voice light. 'How lovely to see you here.' The thief wilted as she looked at him, cowering away and shuffling his feet.

''Ere, there's no need to be threatening like that' he whined, as her wand remained pointing between his eyes. 'I'm an 'onest citizen in need of medical assistance, I am.' He levelled a grubby finger at Luna. 'You're the Auror!' he protested. 'You oughter be protectin' me!'

Luna frowned, looking Mundungus up and down. 'Firstly, I have only two words to say to you: dragon hide.' He dropped her gaze guiltily and she added 'Secondly, protect you from what? Why are you in St. Mungo's, anyway?'

Mundungus shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny. 'Well, it was like this. I'd been involved in a certain…' (he glanced at Luna, saw her expression and glanced away again hurriedly) 'business enterprise, and I needed somewhere to stay in London what didn't 'ave Ministry coppers breathing down me neck. So, I 'ad a think, and finally I 'eaded up to Grimmauld Place, the old Order 'Eadquarters. Well, it's all empty now, or so I thought, what with You-Know-'Oo gone an' bit the dust, but I still knew 'ow to get in.' He paused wiping his forehead. 'Blimey, what a dumb idea that was.'

Luna leaned forwards. She had heard about Grimmauld Place from Hermione, and was beginning to be interested in spite of herself. 'What happened?' she asked.

Mundungus shrugged. 'Bleedin' occupied!'

Luna frowned at him. 'Grimmauld Place is occupied?'

He nodded several times. 'That's what I said, yeah. I 'eaded towards the kitchen, then stopped 'cause I saw a bloke sitting there, plain as daylight. I was goin' to sneak away, but 'e 'eard me move an' next thing I know, I'm dodgin' curses like there's no tomorrow. Damn near cut me ear off!' he gestured to his right ear, which was heavily bandaged.

'Well, I got out with just a coupla bangs and scrapes, mainly 'cause 'e didn't actually foller me. An' then I took off to an 'ospital before me ear falls off completely, an' gets accosted by a 'Tec.' he finished, looking aggrieved. 'So you see Detective, I'm really the victim 'ere.'

Luna let out a bark of laughter at that. 'Then surely, you should let us protect you. A nice secure room, solid door, no windows…'

'Oi! I ain't goin' to no prisonhouse!' protested Mundungus, and turning, he hurried away from the detective, who, tapping her wand against her leg, watched him go thoughtfully.

Ω

She was still there ten minutes later, when Viridian Lethwick arrived. A chance to wash and sleep had restored him to something like his usual immaculate appearance, with only a few scratches and grazes to show his part in the events of the previous night.

'Ah, Miss Lovegood' he said when he saw her, adopting a tone of pleasant surprise. 'I was hoping to run into you. Perhaps a few words? A quick-' (he produced a dark blue notepad from his breast pocket and flicked it open) '-comment on the current state of affairs?'

Luna stared at him. 'You want an interview?'

'I would consider it a very kind gesture, and a personal favour' Lethwick replied.

'You've got a nerve…' muttered Luna. She looked at Lethwick incredulously. 'What on earth made you think I'd give you any more information than I can avoid?'

The reporter sighed in mock sorrow. 'I must admit, I had anticipated a certain reluctance on your part. Accordingly, I propose an exchange.' He leaned in towards Luna. 'I hear things, Miss Lovegood. People talk to me; people come to me to find out information, people come to me to sell it. I have a certain piece of information which you would find most useful. But it isn't free.'

Luna looked searchingly at him for a long minute. 'Tell me first' she said at last. 'If it's as good as you claim, you can get an interview. If not, _au revoir_.'

Lethwick smiled like a cat armed with a can opener, and his response was almost purred. 'Done.' He moved to a chair opposite Luna in the corridor. He sat down, taking his time to get comfortable, before - legs crossed and hands steepled over his lap – he leaned back into the chair and began.

'You are by this point no doubt aware that the murderer is using a copy of the list of muggle-born acceptance letters to plan his killings. What you do not know is how he obtained it.'

'We do' said Luna serenely. 'They stole it from Marcus Threft's desk.'

Lethwick held up one long finger to stop her. 'The interesting thing is… they didn't. The parchment missing from the sheaf in his desk was never stolen, rather…passed on.'

Luna frowned. 'Then Threft…'

'Precisely. Threft was simply the courier of this information. There is, you know, a small but thriving black market that deals in information. Somebody used this to employ Threft, knowing he could lay hands on a copy, to deliver them the vital parchment.'

'No.' said Luna slowly, thinking hard. 'Threft is more of a follower than a planner himself. He doesn't have that kind of initiative. It's far more likely that the killer dealt with someone more shrewd and practical, who then used Threft to supply them with the plans to give the murderer. And how would you know this, anyhow?' Understanding dawned in her eyes and she levelled an accusing finger at Lethwick. 'It's you, isn't it? Everyone knows you're in on the information business.' The reporter made to deny it, but she cut him off and hurried on over his protestations.

'You made a deal with the murderer of those poor children, and later, when you realised what your _client_ had done with the information, you start to worry and follow around the detectives on the case, making petty deals and trying to figure out how much they know under the pretext of wanting a report for the press. But the final, damning straw is when you try to mislead us by telling us the truth, but editing yourself out of it so that all the blame goes to your informant. And by getting in first, if Threft accuses you when he's arrested, it will only sound like he's trying to pass the blame back to you in retaliation.'

There was a long, ringing silence. Then Lethwick said, not remotely abashed: 'You know, detective, you really are much more observant than I give you credit for. I wonder if they're paying you nearly enough.'

'Thank you, Lethwick.' said Luna graciously. 'Now get out.'

The reporter looked at her for a moment, judging whether it was worth asking for an interview. Then he smiled a little ruefully and stood up. He turned to leave.

'Wait!' called Luna. When he turned back to her, she asked 'I don't suppose you know anything about what the killer looks like, then?'

Lethwick shook his head. 'I did checks on the person I dealt with. They were a supposedly a muggle with no knowledge of the magical world.'

'Polyjuice potion. Pity.'

Lethwick nodded. 'My conclusion exactly. Always a pleasure, Detective.' He gave a short bow and turned on his heel, walking briskly out of the room.

Ω

It was nearing night when Luna retraced her steps towards the Thaddeus Crimpin Ward for Emergency Spell Damage. She had by this point seen more of Saint Mungo's than she had ever desired to, and hoped simply to get out as soon as possible. She had planned to check on Hermione, even though she knew she would have received a message if her partner had woken up yet. However, before she reached the mainstay of the ward, she was stopped short by a high, shrill scream from the small room next to it. The small room, she knew, where Carla had been settled to give her (as a technical muggle) a little more privacy for her more lengthy stay.

Making a split-second decision, she bolted straight to the door, and drawing her wand, flung it open. Inside, the room was furnished with various minor medical apparatus and a single occupied bed. In this last, a small, very familiar girl was sitting bolt upright, shaking with terror.

'Carla!' Luna cried, stowing her wand quickly and darting to her bedside. 'What's wrong?'

Carla didn't answer, seemingly struck dumb with fear, and Luna sat down, wrapping her arms around the trembling child. 'A nightmare?'

Carla nodded, and Luna rocked her gently, waving off with one hand the healers who had rushed towards the scream. 'Don't think about it now' she said soothingly. 'Think about something else, anything, and just leave the nightmare in a bottom drawer of your mind.'

They sat together quietly for several minutes, until Carla was calmer. After a while, she asked, a little hesitantly: 'Luna?'

'Yes?'

'Will I really go to Hogwarts?'

Luna smiled at her. 'Of course you will.'

'What's it like?'

The detective hugged the child tighter and paused a moment before beginning. 'You're a first year, so that means you'll take the boats. You go across the black lake in a fleet of little rowboats, and the school itself is hidden for most of the trip. And then you go around the corner, and it's waiting for you, shining like a thousand stars in the darkness. It's a huge castle, sitting on an outcrop of rock over the black lake. In the winter, the whole school becomes covered in snow, so it looks like something out of a painting. There are hundreds of different rooms and passages, and some of them have secret entrances that you can only get into if you know how. You'll get lost a lot to begin with, but the ghosts are always quick to help you out.'

She spoke long into the night in her soft, lilting voice, and slowly the child beside her became more relaxed, fixated on the pictures Luna was drawing in her mind. They fell after a long time into a comfortable, companionable silence, the earlier terror drained away, and both seemed unwilling to break the peaceful sound of nothing but their own breathing. Finally Carla said quietly, staring into the space in front of her, 'I dreamed of him, you know.'

'Who?' asked Luna, and the girl replied a little more strongly.

'The attacker. The man in my room. That's what my nightmare was about.'

'Don't think on it.' responded Luna gently. 'It's finished. You've nothing to fear from him.'

Carla looked up at the detective, and her eyes were wide and fearful. 'I saw his face. I didn't notice it at the time because everything happened so quickly, but I saw the man's face when he burst through the window.'

Luna breathed in sharply. 'What did he look like?'

'He was pale-faced. His hair was dark and his eyes were a bright, sharp green. Like crushed emeralds' she said.

'Anything else?' inquired Luna quickly. 'Any distinguishing marks – features, tattoos, piercings?'

Carla frowned, thinking. 'He had a scar. A small cut on his forehead, shaped like a lightning bolt.'

Luna slid slowly off the bed. She stood very still, looking straight ahead, and didn't say anything for a long time. Things from previous conversations, things she'd heard or said over the past few days all seemed to click into place and came to the same sudden, devastating conclusion.

'…_Good reflexes, pretty agile, and a duelling champion to boot...'_

'…_Disarming spells, mostly. A couple of stunners. And sectumsempra.'_

'…_Grimmauld Place is occupied…'_

'…_A small cut on his forehead, shaped like a lightning bolt…'_

'No…' she whispered, and when she spoke she sounded truly frightened for the first time. 'No…'

'What?' asked Carla anxiously. The fear and uncertainty radiating from Luna was infectious, and she felt her breathing almost unconsciously start to speed up.

'No…' breathed Luna again, and then she seemed to get hold of herself. She knelt by the bed and cupped Carla's face gently in her hands, forcing the girl to look into her eyes. 'Carla' she said, in a voice whose quietness didn't hide the urgency in it. 'Carla, I want you to keep safe. Stay in the hospital and don't leave until I'm back. Carla' she said to the girl, who was trying to hide her trembling 'Be brave.' Carla took a shaky breath, then nodded.

Luna hugged the girl once more, before standing and striding to the door. In the doorway she turned.

'Tell Healer Maddenthorpe to pass this message on to Hermione as soon as she wakes up. Tell her… tell her the culprit is the owner of Grimmauld Place, and to come as quickly as she can.'

Carla nodded speechlessly again, and Luna smiled fondly at the girl. 'Goodbye, Carla. I'll see you soon.'

And with that she turned and all but ran from the room, the door slamming shut behind her.

Ω

**A/N: Muahahahahaha! Muahahahahaha! Muahahahahahahahahahahaha!**


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